


Arrival

by midgetnazgul



Series: Postcards from Tucson [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gay Pride, I mean it though this has a CDC warning for causing diabetes, M/M, Men Crying, One Shot, jack and gabe are big gay dads, with some smut later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 07:30:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midgetnazgul/pseuds/midgetnazgul
Summary: Jesse has had a tough life and a long road to really growing up, even into his thirties. Today marks the most profound step he's ever taken, and the hardest: attending Tucson's Pride Festival and being out as completely as he ever has been. His time has come to truly arrive, and he's...not ready, but the closest he'll ever be with Hanzo by his side.And Hanzo could stand to do a bit of growing of his own.





	Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> hi fronds~
> 
> This fic is being uploaded as part of what is intended to be a continuing series entitled Postcards From Tucson. It will be one-shot vignettes (or minimally-chaptered, like this first one is), set past and present to the universe presented in Da Capo al Signo -- which you should read if you have not, because much of this will not make sense otherwise, but I can't tell you how to run your life, right? ;)
> 
> Cait and I came up with a LOT of extraneous content I just couldn't fit into the original fic and doesn't make sense to present within the story's boundaries. However, this particular Jesse and Hanzo mean a great deal to both of us, and I am interested in continuing to play around in this AU.
> 
> Updates will be VERY sporadic, just gonna be up-front with that. My other fic The Chain, being a long-term project, eats up a whooooole lot of my time and creative energy. But these bois in Tucson are good good bois and I want to return to them here and there in the future.

Jesse plucked up one of the freshly-filled water bottles and sequestered it safely in his backpack. His hands were only shaking a little – that was good, right? Yes.

“Your meds, sugar?” he called out to Hanzo, who appeared with a small ziplock bag. He was already in his braces and ready to go.

“Right here.”

“Yeah. Good. Yeah,” Jesse mumbled mostly to himself and took the bag to put it in the backpack as well. “Got sunscreen on?”

“Done, yes.”

“We should take it with, too. Where is it?”

“Put it in there ten minutes ago,” Hanzo replied patiently, nodding at the backpack.

“Right,” Jesse wheezed as his anxiety grew. “Um. What else...water?”

“You just put _that_ in the bag, darling.”

“I did! I did. I already fuckin’ did,” Jesse stuttered, flushed and visibly shaky. Hanzo came right up alongside his boyfriend and slid an arm around his waist.

“My love,” Hanzo opened with deliberate calm, “Did you remember to take your diazepam this morning?”

“Yeah,” Jesse answered automatically. Dread burst in his chest as he thought twice. “Wait. Shit, I—”

“I didn’t think so,” Hanzo replied and smoothly revealed Jesse’s medication organizer in his other hand offered to Jesse. Saturday’s section was indeed still untouched.

“_Fuck_,” Jesse sighed.

“No need to worry. There’s still plenty of time for it to take effect. Here you are.”

Jesse sheepishly took the organizer and fled to the sink for a glass of water. “Sorry,” he mumbled after he’d taken his dose. Hanzo gave him a _look, _making Jesse nod at nothing to himself. They’d talked about Jesse’s knee-jerk tendency to apologize over nothing before.

“You’re right. Don’t be sorry for bein’ me,” Jesse said, speaking deliberately.

“Good,” Hanzo purred, smiling.

The reminder was particularly important today, and Jesse was extra-nervous for a reason. They were packing up for an outing – Tucson’s Pride parade and festival. To avoid the worst of the desert’s high summer heat, it was held in September, later than most places.

Hanzo had only just returned to town the night before. After the great success of his album release in April, he’d begun a regional tour under his new record label with a full backing band and had only come home for a spare weekend here and there in the past four months. Weeks ago during one of their near-nightly Facetime calls, Hanzo had suggested setting aside some time to come home and attend the Pride festival together, and had gotten a hell of a shock when Jesse had stuttered through an outright refusal. Careful, gentle prying over the next hour had revealed that Jesse had never attended once, despite living in Tucson his entire life.

In retrospect, Hanzo shouldn’t have been so surprised; he was very familiar with Jesse’s long and fraught journey to accepting his identity as a gay man. Apparently, even Gabe and Jack couldn’t convince him to go, either as a teenager or as an adult. Their talk had stretched late into the night and been interrupted by some tears on Jesse’s part, but at length they’d come to an accord and Jesse decided he was ready to go to the festival now that he had Hanzo in his life.

When Hanzo left for home, he’d understood from the moment he took off from the tarmac that he would have a hell of a day on his hands. The night before, however, had been perfectly fine – Jesse had picked him up from the airport and they decided to stay in town at Hanzo’s house, rather than go all the way out to the ranch just to turn around in the morning and come back into the city. Jesse had been so excited just to be _with_ Hanzo after some weeks apart, he hadn’t had a moment to consider the future and its anxieties. Now that they were preparing to leave, the cracks in Jesse’s composure were beginning to grow and make themselves known. Hanzo imagined that Jesse’s entire week trying to psych himself up for the event had been pretty stressful. He was just like that.

“We ain’t even _left_ yet,” Jesse murmured, chastising himself. “Already, you gotta be minding me.”

“I came home fully expecting that,” Hanzo explained. When Jesse’s head sank in shame, Hanzo reached with both hands to hold and lift Jesse’s face back up to look at him. “And that is a _good_ thing. You _should_ fall apart a time or two today. This is a very big deal for anyone, and that is no less true for you.”

“Maybe,” Jesse mumbled.

“No, _not_ maybe. This is a _normal_ way to feel, Jesse. I cannot stress that enough.”

That put wind back in Jesse’s sails. He stood up straighter and put his hands over Hanzo’s holding his jaw.

“I love you,” Jesse said, and his heart lightened further as Hanzo’s face split in a huge responding smile.

“And I love you.”

Jesse grew thoughtful and newly hesitant in Hanzo’s arms. As silent preface, he turned to kiss one of Hanzo’s hands.

“We’re almost ready to go. I just ain’t...put your wheelchair in the truck yet.”

Jesse wasn’t stupid; he could easily tell how much Hanzo was schooling his involuntary distaste at the mention of the wheelchair.

“It’s in my studio.”

“Great. Thanks, sugar,” Jesse said emphatically before pulling away to go find it.

Hanzo gave up a heavy sigh once Jesse was out of earshot and crossed his arms. Over the past several months – both before _and _after he’d released his album – Hanzo had been making a concerted effort to use his wheelchair more at home. He’d never truly acclimated to using it and still struggled with finer steering maneuvers. Hanzo had first decided to dip a toe in the water at the ranch house some time ago. Since very little of the grounds around the ranch was paved, it was very difficult for Hanzo to get around walking in his braces. This meant he had to stay cooped up in the house most days Jesse was working and...it was _boring._ Jesse had lit up when Hanzo begrudgingly mentioned this fact: _Let me put in a ramp off the porch and you can come around the stables more._ So the ramp had been built and Hanzo had (with _extreme_ hesitance) begun venturing outside in the chair. Now, he knew all of Jesse’s ranch hands much better and got to spend time with the horses, which Hanzo very much enjoyd and appreciated.

For today, however, Jesse had been _very_ clever to talk up bringing the wheelchair along to the festival _after_ their round of reunion sex the previous night. _Just in case,_ Jesse had said. _It’s gonna be crowded. You never know. _Hanzo supposed Jesse was correct, but he didn’t have to _like_ it. It was Jesse’s way to worry; Hanzo could inwardly permit submitting to the idea for the sake of his partner’s already sky-high anxiety. If every contingency was going to hound Jesse’s tenuous mental health while on this adventure, it was just _smart_ to agree to his terms. It wasn’t any insistence to _use _it – Jesse knew better than that, and always had. Hanzo understood his limits, even if he occasionally ran headlong into them and injured himself to prove to himself they were there.

Jesse’s heavy footfalls grew close again as he passed, wheelchair folded and rolling in front of him on the way out to the truck. No, Hanzo wouldn’t let something so small and foolish ruin _his_ day, he decided as he stared at the chair disappearing out the door. It was petty, and he was teaching himself to pick the _appropriate_ venue for all his god-given pettiness. Today was about _Jesse;_ Hanzo was bound and determined to give the love of his life the proper attention and adoration he deserved on such a special day.

_Suck it up and admit he’s right, Hanzo._ _It won’t kill you._

Jesse reappeared at the door, gesturing vaguely towards the truck.

“Ready, Han?”

“Absolutely.”

~

The pep talk worked for a solid thirty minutes. They gathered their things, hopped in Jesse’s truck, and had a peacefully-quiet drive as close as they could get to the parade route, where it began along Broadway – the parade started early and ended at Reid Park, where the festival would begin. As they came up on small groups of people obviously clad in all kinds of trappings for Pride, Jesse’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. For _many_ years, Jesse had passed all this by in the times when he’d accidentally happen upon it just going around town. He’d felt so separate from all of it: the joy, the openness, the togetherness. By his mid-twenties, he’d started noting the usual weekend and began totally avoiding coming into town altogether just so he wouldn’t have to deal with all the feelings. Everything with his ex-boyfriend Jeremy had still been so raw, and Jesse so unable to cope with everything attached to it. Being who he was had – until recently – brought _him_ no joy.

Jesse parked, but didn’t move to follow when Hanzo released his seat belt and opened the door to get out. Hanzo paused, noted Jesse’s flat stare out the windshield, and shut the door again, making Jesse start violently in his seat. He waited patiently as Jesse searched for and found the capacity to speak. 

“I’m thirty-four fuckin’ years old.” 

“Mm, congratulations. That’s better than thirty-three,” Hanzo replied smoothly. 

Jesse’s head spun to stare at his partner in surprise at his bone-dry humor. Hanzo casually shrugged. 

“Do you have any other non sequiturs to—” 

“I should be _better_ than this,” Jesse interrupted, half-desperate, half-upset at Hanzo’s seeming blitheness. Hanzo, in turn, slid clumsily across the bench seat to sit closer to Jesse and took his hand. 

“No, you don’t, and it has nothing to do with how old you are.” 

“But—” 

“Jesse, I have come here every year since I immigrated. But that first year was _also_ the first Pride celebration I had _ever_ been to. I was thirty-one.” 

Jesse went very quiet. 

“And there will be _many_ people here today just like you. Some are fifteen, some are fifty. That is the tragedy of your society in America _and_ my own back home.” 

“You...you ain’t ever gone to any kinda parade or nothin’ back home?” Jesse asked softly. 

“No. Part of it was inconvenience – Tokyo has the only major celebration. It was _very_ new when I was a teenager, too. Hanamura is small and...not given to progressivism. And with father being so socially prominent...I wasn’t disallowed by my family, but I wasn’t keen to bring scrutiny on myself _or_ them. And after the accident, well...I didn’t go _anywhere_. Genji convinced me to come the first time. I was a shut-in when we first arrived here.” 

“Oh.” 

Rather than be encouraged, Jesse wilted further, feeling scorned. Hanzo squeezed his hand. 

“My point is to underline that you are neither too old nor too nervous. It is never too late. It is never _late_ at all. You do this when you’re ready, and if you _are indeed_ not ready, we can go home right now. But if my thoughts are worth anything to you, _I_ think you’re ready.” 

Jesse leant into Hanzo and kissed the side of his head. 

“Everything you say is worth the world to me, sugar. Everything you are.” 

Hanzo let his own lowkey anxiety go with a long sigh and snuggled back. 

“I know.” 

“You...really think I am?” Jesse asked. 

“I do. In fact,” Hanzo said, and sat up properly to dig in his denim vest pocket. “I got you something for the parade.” He produced a rainbow terrycloth wristband and offered it to Jesse. “You are not the type to paint yourself over or wear a flag like some do, but I thought you should have at least a little something.” 

“_Baby,_” Jesse sputtered thickly. He took it and slid it on his wrist, though his fingers trembled a little. 

“There. Suits you,” Hanzo said as Jesse stared at his wrist. He let it go quiet for a few minutes so Jesse could sit with it and absorb the important of the moment. “So. What are we going to do today? Stay in, or go out?” 

Jesse took a very deep breath and nodded. 

“Let’s go." 

“Excellent.” 

They alighted from the truck and joined the stream of people headed around the corner, hand in hand. When they turned said corner, however… 

“Damn. I didn’t think we’d have to be _that_ early,” Jesse mused, watching the crowd gather and press in. 

“Let’s just...stand towards the back,” Hanzo said, voice suddenly stiff and anxious. 

“That’s no problem for me, but Hanzo, you’re gonna have a hard time seein’ over everybody.” 

Hanzo didn’t speak again, eyes locked on the people nudging amongst each other, some even jumping in place to wave at friends they recognized across the street. Jesse frowned and cast his eyes down at the pavement, searching for the right words. 

“Look, maybe...” Jesse began. 

“No, you did so well psyching yourself up to even come, we’re not going to back out because of _me._ I will be fine.” 

“No, that’s not what I was gonna say,” Jesse sighed. 

“Then what?” Hanzo asked, genuinely puzzled. 

“I just think...I really think you should switch to your wheelchair for the parade. There, I said it. You can put your braces back on after, when we go to the festival. But—” 

Hanzo _immediately_ bristled. 

“Jesse, I can—” 

“No, baby, it’s not about what you _can’t_ do, it’s whether you’ll have any fun doing it. All those people bumpin’ you around. You’re gonna spend all your time _and _energy trying to keep your balance. Don’t do this just to make a point. _Please._” 

It had taken quite a bit of convincing the previous night just to sell Hanzo on the idea to bring the wheelchair along _just in case _at all – it lay in the bed of the truck, ready to be called upon. 

“_That’s_ why you were so insistent last night,” Hanzo muttered. 

“You were gonna shut me down if I came at it directly. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with taking it, Hanzo. Not a goddamn thing. It’s not giving up, it’s the right tool for the right moment. Now, you’re not letting _me_ be my own worst enemy today, right? Let me do that for you.” 

Hanzo mulled Jesse’s logic, and was irritated to acknowledge he was absolutely correct. He _would_ have to put most of his focus on the jostling around him, with very little space to keep himself steady – standing with his feet close together was very difficult when his knees were locked. It was always better to spread his feet apart and square his stance. His legs were likely to cramp, too. He’d wear himself out by early afternoon, and as a result, would probably end up using the wheelchair anyway. _The right tool for the right moment_, Jesse had said. Wisdom. Hanzo just had to let go of enough pride to measure that wisdom’s worth. 

“Okay. Yes, all right. Let’s...let’s be quick, it starts soon." 

They turned around for the short walk back to the truck. Hanzo looked into the rear bed where the chair lay folded up and couldn’t help glaring at it a little. Jesse stroked down Hanzo’s good side where he would feel it. 

“Sure you don’t wanna take ‘em off first in the truck and then I—” Jesse said. 

“_No._” That would necessitate Jesse carrying him to put him _in _the chair, and he was _not_ ready to be seen needing that in public. 

“Gotcha,” Jesse replied as neutrally as he could manage and opened up the tailgate to retrieve the wheelchair. 

Once Hanzo was sat and settled, he started with the velcro straps at his waist and legs. Jesse triple-checked that the locks on the wheels were on before giving Hanzo a nod; Hanzo in turn, lifted himself straight up using the armrests and his considerable upper-body strength as leverage so Jesse could slide the braces off and away. 

“Lock them in the truck, please. I can afford another $15,000 set if someone wants to break into your truck, but I’d like to provide a _little_ deterrence,” Hanzo muttered. 

“’Course, sugar. Shit, the _truck_ probably isn’t worth fifteen grand anymore.” 

That got Hanzo to lighten up a little in a smile. He still didn’t look terribly excited about his change of transportation, but the expression was more resignation than anything else. 

“Do you want me to push?” Jesse asked carefully. 

“No, not necessary. I’ll be able to pivot better doing it myself.” 

They eventually found a suitable spot at a street corner, and Hanzo was pleasantly surprised by how gracious, even _friendly_ their fellow parade-goers were to let him and Jesse be at the forefront. It wasn’t long before the parade began; for the first fifteen minutes or so, Hanzo kept a sharper but surreptitious eye on Jesse. He was relatively at ease, but occasionally his gaze would dart here and there, presumably searching for inordinate stares at either himself or Hanzo in his chair. Despite the talk, he clearly still felt a bit like a man out of place. Hanzo took Jesse’s hand and nudged the new wristband as a gentle reminder. Jesse returned an understanding little nod and self-conscious smile before bringing Hanzo’s hand up to kiss. 

As the parade went on by, a group representing Tucson’s PFLAG chapter came walking up. One woman carrying an inconceivable quantity of rainbow plastic bead necklaces and wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with I LOVE MY QUEER KID picked Jesse out and dashed over with a huge grin, holding some strands aloft. 

“Oh yes, you need some,” she said. “May I?” 

Jesse couldn’t reply much beyond bashful mumbling, but he did stick his neck out to accept the raiment. Once finished bequeathing her gift, she pat Jesse on the cheek in a motherly gesture. 

“I can always tell who needs them. Chin up, dear.” 

“Y-yes ma’am. Thank you,” Jesse replied weakly. 

She offered a last, finger-waggling wave goodbye and continued on, rumba-ing down the street. Jesse held one end of the loop of beads and rubbed it between his fingers with a deeply-thoughtful look on his face. Did he still seem that nervous? Probably – he was, after all. But now...he felt even better than he did after talking with Hanzo. Odd. The woman had been so kindly, and Jesse was of course grateful, but it wasn’t as though Jesse was lacking a mother in his life. He had Ana; he _cherished_ Ana. But she didn’t necessarily heal the wounds of the past. Not completely. It was..._meaningful_ to see a mother with a gay child of her own being visible and supportive. Not just because of the foster mother that had turned him away, but the birth mother he never got to come out to. A part of his nebulous, lingering doubt faded. Ana wasn’t an aberration. Others saw what she did...something, some_one_ of value for who he was. And other kids wouldn’t end up like him – at least, not as much as they used to. That felt like a victory. 

“Mm, handsome,” Hanzo offered as a feather-light tease. He’d watched the entire interaction in silence and only now decided it was safe enough to bring attention to the significant moment Jesse had just had. 

“Remind me to call mom later,” Jesse said, looking over to Hanzo. 

“Of course.” 

“She’ll want to know I...I came here.” 

“Yes, she will.” 

Jesse gave Hanzo the biggest smile yet of the day and refocused on the parade. Now, he expressed real and greater interest as he got into the moment, swaying with the music and waving back at people marching by. Hanzo let his last bit of guard fall away and let himself enjoy the parade as well, singing along with the songs he knew and doing his best to catch whatever free something or other people tossed from their floats. Another hour and a half whiled away before the parade finished. People began peeling off to head for Reid Park, but Jesse and Hanzo were content with waiting out the bustle before taking the wheelchair back to the car. 

“So switch to braces and walk? It’s not too far. I’m not sure we’ll get any luckier with parking. If you get too tired after we’re done, I can come back and bring the truck around,” Jesse suggested. 

“I think that’s fine,” Hanzo agreed. 

A voice broke over the general din of the crowd, drawing both men’s attention. 

“Hanzo? Hanzo!” 

Hanzo pivoted his chair around to just see a short flash of green weaving amongst the people, getting closer. 

“It _is_ you! Saw you across the way.” A black man with dreads and a thick Brazilian accent came bounding up. He was a little younger than them and dressed in yellow-and-green fishnet rave regalia for the occasion. The grin on his face as he approached Hanzo wouldn’t just light up a room, but probably sustain an entire solar array, it was so bright and charming. 

“Lucio!” Hanzo greeted with rare, unrestrained delight. 

“I was worried you hadn’t made it this year when you didn’t come by the bar before the parade,” Lucio said. 

“Gracious of you to miss me. No, it’s...a little different for me this year,” Hanzo explained, suddenly self-conscious as he reached to hold Jesse’s hand demonstratively. 

“_Oh, s_o _that’s _why I haven’t seen you up there in ages,” Lucio cooed and offered a hand for Jesse to shake. Jesse obliged with a shy, silent nod. “You’ve done well for yourself.” 

“I’ve been a bit lucky, yes,” Hanzo purred and pet his thumb over Jesse’s hand. 

“I’m Jesse,” he said, and inwardly congratulated himself for not stuttering. 

“Lucio Correia dos Santos. I’m DJ up at Venture-N. I’ve known Hanzo for a few years. Don’t recognize _you, _though, and I work most nights.” 

“I-I don’t. I’ve never been.” _There_ was Jesse’s anxious stutter, right on time. 

Hanzo attempted as surreptitiously as possible to give Lucio a significant look, but Lucio seemed to appreciate the anxiety on his own well enough and gave Jesse another 100-watt, reassuring smile. 

“Where’d you meet, then? Hanzo isn’t one to get out much,” he said with a wink at his friend. 

“I picked up a gig at La Tumba. He knows the owners,” Hanzo said. 

“Oh, Jack and Gabe? Great guys.” 

“You...know Jack and Gabe?” Jesse asked. 

“Not well, but I’m familiar. The owner of Venture-N is good friends with them and they come up every once in a while. My sets aren’t really for La Tumba’s clientele, so I’ve never spun there. But I love Jack’s shitty dad jokes.” 

Jesse spit up a bit of real laughter. 

“Yeah, he’s got an arsenal. He practices them on me.” 

“Shit, really?” Lucio asked, laughing. “God bless you for it. Look, I know you probably want to go on to the festival, but if you’re down for a drink later, I’ll be doing all the music at the bar tonight for the Pride party. Anything you want – Jell-O shots, beer, whatever – all on me. If you’ve never been, Jesse, you should stop by! And everybody would love to see you, Hanzo.” 

“What do you think, Jesse?” Hanzo asked lightly, but squeezed Jesse’s hand in reassurance. 

“Um. Yeah, maybe. If...if you’re up for it and...not too tired from running around.” 

“Of course!” Lucio hastily agreed, suddenly concerned. “Hanzo, you...you’re..._healthy_, right?” 

“What? Yes, of course. He just frets,” Hanzo replied, waving his hand dismissively. 

“Oh, good. I...I didn’t want to put you on the spot, but I have to admit...the wheelchair was kind of a surprise. So—” 

Hanzo nodded his understanding and swallowed his bruised pride. He knew Lucio – there was no _pity_ in his comment, only genuine interest. And admittedly, letting go of his negative emotions around his wheelchair to use it more often _was_ a big change for him. He had never, _ever_ permitted himself to be seen at Venture-N in anything but his braces. 

“I see what you mean. No, I am well. Jesse...pointed out that it would be easier on me this way. And I’ve been...working on my ego.” 

Lucio’s eyebrows arched knowingly. 

“You _do_ have a fair amount of that. Well, good! Somebody needs to haul your proud ass in line when you need it.” 

Jesse snorted with laughter; Lucio grinned at him with approval. 

“He’s quiet now, but I assure you, he is much better at reeling me in than it seems at the moment,” Hanzo said, elbowing Jesse in the thigh. 

Lucio’s continued to laugh, but as it faded, his eyes grew particularly soft and warm looking at Hanzo. 

“You really look good, Hanzo. I mean it. Totally different from the last time I saw you. I’m glad, truly.” 

Hanzo’s eyes darted low and away. 

“It’s...gratifying to hear that. I _am_ different. Better. Thank you.” 

Lucio and Hanzo held eyes for a long moment, and it was absolutely not lost on Jesse as to its significance. With a few, rapid blinks, Lucio came to and offered Jesse a last, parting handshake. 

“I’d tell you to take care of him, but… most times he’s too stuck-up to want it, and you obviously do a perfect job doing it anyway.” 

“I try,” Jesse replied warmly, and returned the second handshake with much more confidence than the first. 

“I’ll let you guys go. I hope you two do come tonight, though. It’s awesome, Hanzo will tell you.” 

Lucio gave Hanzo a quick wink and a wave before heading back down the street the way he came and disappeared into the crowd. Jesse’s eyes slid down to look at Hanzo in his periphery with a knowing smile on his face. 

“You fucked, didn’t you?" 

“Yep,” Hanzo replied smoothly, drawing out the word in an extra-cheeky turn. 

“I sure get why, too. Damn.” 

Hanzo turned and craned his neck to properly look at Jesse. 

“You’re...not bothered?” 

“Huh? No, of course not. That was before we met. The fuck should I care?” 

Hanzo frowned in a mixture of surprise and contemplation. 

“So...does that mean we can go?” 

“Go? Where, to Venture-N?” 

“Yes. I do enjoy the after-festival party. If you aren’t...worried. About...” 

Jesse pulled a face – he was actually a bit hurt by the implication. 

“Babe, have you...have you not gone there because of _me?_” 

A long, heavy sigh escaped Hanzo. 

“Jesse, I have hardly been home since April,” Hanzo tried, but Jesse’s raised eyebrow toppled Hanzo’s admittedly-weak resistance. He shrugged. “But before then...yes. I didn’t want to go without you, and I...didn’t think I could broach the subject. I have friends there. It’s not _always_ liquor-soaked debauchery in thongs, you know. They save that for every third Saturday of the month,” he finished explaining, ending with a bit of humor in hopes of supplying levity. It didn’t work; Jesse appeared just shy of devastated. 

“I-I. I’m sorry. I ain’t meant to...to keep you...” 

Hanzo shook his head emphatically. 

“We have had _quite_ a year, and as such, we have been wrapped up in each other. That’s the way it is _supposed_ to be. But going forward, we don’t have to...be separate from the world, either. And...and I believe...” Hanzo paused, struggling with how to put his thought. 

“It’s all right, sugar. Tell me.” 

“I think you need more friends. And I...I think you need _queer_ friends,” Hanzo finished, obviously hesitant. “Ones that are contemporaries. Not just Jack and Gabe.” 

Jesse was speechless. 

“Wh-what’s wrong with—” 

“_Nothing,_ anata. It’s just...I am away a lot. I will be for several more months. I want to feel good knowing when I go that you aren’t alone. I know, I _know_ you have the ranch,” Hanzo continued, preemptively cutting off Jesse’s rebuttal as he began to speak it. “But you need more, and more importantly, you _deserve_ more. You’re...you’re _wonderful_, Jesse. There are so many people like us who would love to know you, too. And in time, you...you can feel better about who you are, because you’re surrounded by others who understand.” 

“I got you, don’t I?” Jesse mumbled at the sidewalk. 

“You _do_. Forever. But I am not necessarily the be-all, end-all. You have so much more to give to the world beyond me. It is _so_ good for us both right now; you think that is the sum total of your lot, and it _isn’t._” 

Jesse winced; Hanzo had him down to a tee. He bent to kiss the top of Hanzo’s head. 

“You’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while.” 

“Yes,” Hanzo confessed with a sigh. “I worry when I am gone.” 

“Oh, _sweetheart—_” 

“I do! You’re so _used_ to being alone. I just...I just want to give you the ability to see it doesn’t have to be that way. I’m not suggesting you’re _not_ happy. I know you are, and I know how _much_ you are. I’m simply saying it can be _happier_, and your world can be _bigger._ More whole.” 

Jesse nodded and took to chewing his thumbnail with gusto. 

“Y’know...mom gave me a speech like this a couple years ago,” he admitted at little more than a slurred mumble. “Kinda scary how similar it sounds.” 

“I _promise_ you, I have not conspired—” 

“No, no, not my point. You wouldn’t, you’re better than that. I’m just sayin’, I...I didn’t listen then. A-And I should, now. Okay. We’ll go up to the bar tonight, you and me. Lucio seems pretty great, too. I ain’t bothered for a minute over your past..._whatevers._ Exes, one-night stands. That ain’t my issue; you love me, and I love you. It’s _me_ that I can’t cope with. And...and all this,” Jesse said, gesticulating to the festivities around them. “But...but it’s different now. It _has_ to be. I can get through it because of you. I love you, b-because...because I’m a dumbass gay cowboy, and...and that’s what it is. I can’t hate that anymore; it means hating _you_. I couldn’t do that if I tried.” 

“Come here,” Hanzo rasped. Jesse crouched to meet Hanzo in a long kiss. When they parted, Hanzo tenderly carded Jesse’s hair. “Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?” 

“I can see, yeah,” Jesse murmured. “And it means everything to me.” 

Hanzo held Jesse’s eyes in open adoration for a long moment until he was content. Jesse found so many ways to make Hanzo love him more; it was becoming clearer every day that Hanzo would never find an end to it, and that was the single greatest gift of his entire life. 

“Let’s go get my braces,” Hanzo said thickly. 

“You got it, sweet pea,” Jesse replied with equal emotion. 

~ 

Between getting Hanzo back in his braces and the walk to the park to accommodate Hanzo’s slower gait, it took nearly forty-five minutes to get to Reid Park where the festival was in full swing. That gave them plenty of time to calm down from their emotional conversation and enjoy each other’s company, but it _also_ gave Jesse enough time to overthink himself and his surroundings. With the parade to distract him, he hadn’t paid much attention to the sheer amount of people around him who were much more assured in attending than he was. He watched a group of teenagers laugh and run across the street, and couldn’t shake the feeling he should be trying harder to...to have fun, maybe? He wasn’t sure. _They_ were having fun – it was _inconceivable_ to Jesse that a bunch of kids could just..._do_ that, _here._ But Jesse had set his mind on being not just present, but _out_, so he squared his shoulders and tried his best to keep his worst tendencies at bay. 

Hanzo reasserted tight hold of Jesse’s hand when they arrived – he could see Jesse’s anxiety cropping up again. Here and there as they visited stalls, Hanzo would turn to look at Jesse and catch him staring out towards the throng streaming by. His gaze lingered on kids in particular with a muted kind of wonder, but by and by, the lines in his face eased and a reserved, happy smile bloomed instead. For an hour or so, it was all perfect contentment for both of them; Jesse had even pulled Hanzo in to request a couple kisses, which was pretty rare for him to initiate in public. 

While Jesse was busy taking interest in a booth selling woodworking crafts, Hanzo watched what he could of the distant concert going on further in the park. A shout caught his attention. 

“Jesse? _Jesse!_” 

Jack’s spiky, graying blonde hair peeked over the crowd’s many heads some twenty feet off and was rapidly approaching. Jesse didn’t immediately notice his name being called. 

“Anata—” Hanzo began and plodded over intending to grab his elbow and get his attention, but Jack’s voice hollered Jesse’s name again. This time, Jesse heard it and paled. 

“Jesse, holy _shit!_” Jack exclaimed as he hurried up, arms out in greeting. He quickly tempered his response when he saw how thoroughly Jesse shied at the outpouring of attention. Even if Jesse had been willing to come and was acclimating, calling him out so abruptly wasn’t so much appreciation as it was _a scene._ He wanted to show up, enjoy himself, and leave, all as anonymously as possible. Jack took Jesse by the elbow and led him and Hanzo out to talk in the shadow of a large tree nearby. “Sorry, kid, I don’t mean to come on so strong, it’s just...you’re _here._” 

Before Jesse could stutter through any answer, Gabe emerged from the crowd, clearly confused why his husband had taken off. It took a moment for him to recognize exactly _which_ Jesse that Jack was talking to, and when he did, his whole expression went slack with shock. Hanzo got close and snuck an arm around his waist for grounding touch...and hopefully dissuade him from bolting. 

Gabe and Jesse stared at each other for a long moment, holding some silent conversation as if they were alone in a quiet living room. 

“Ten years, I’ve been trying to get you out here,” Gabe finally said, soft and reverent. He closed the last bit of distance between them to take hold of Jesse by his tight, anxious shoulders. 

“I-I don’t wanna make it a big deal,” Jesse muttered. 

Gabe shook his head and squeezed his grip. 

“It _is_ a big deal, though. You’re here to be yourself. The most whole you’ve ever been. You got every damn right to celebrate that.” 

Jesse’s eyes grew glassy, and Hanzo caught the sympathetic gleam in Gabe’s eyes just quick enough to slide away before Gabe yanked Jesse in for a big hug. Jack and Hanzo shared soft smiles. 

“I am so fucking _proud_ of you, _mijo_,” Gabe murmured in Jesse’s ear. 

_Mijo _only came out of Gabe’s mouth for extraordinarily intimate occasions. Jesse hugged back tight and buried his face in Gabe’s shoulder. 

“I weren’t gonna cry ‘til later,” Jesse sniffled in reply. 

“No, you cry as much as you goddamn want today. Any son-of-a-bitch tries it, they can come through a couple of ex-Army queers first,” Gabe rumbled. 

“We cried all day the first year we came. That was...’95?” Jack said, eyes squinting as he tried to recall. 

“Yeah. Same year we were discharged. You and I were a fuckin’ mess all that year, but that had been _both_ our first time going to a Pride festival,” Gabe replied. 

“Really?” Hanzo asked, head tilted with interest. Gabe had relinquished the embrace, so Hanzo reclaimed his place aside his partner and began rubbing Jesse’s back to soothe him. 

“It was a tough choice to leave the service,” Jack explained, muted and reflective. “We decided we were more important to each other than our careers. We only increased our risk of dishonorable discharge the longer we were together and still in uniform.” 

“Oh, yes. That policy,” Hanzo said. Jesse had explained it to him before. 

“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, yeah,” Gabe finished for him. “It stopped being official policy before you came here, but that was a long time _after_ we left. So before leaving the service, he and I didn’t ever get to go to anything like this, together or otherwise – the risk was way too high with us being officers. It wasn’t as..._common_ _and accepted _to attend when we were kids, either. LA’s had one forever, but...well, my dad wasn’t too egalitarian.” 

“And I’m from _Indiana_,” Jack added flatly. “I entered the military and effectively disappeared from my family until, oh...five years ago.” 

“When you got married,” Jesse noted, his voice still thick with emotion. 

“Yep. I sent them invitations with a thinly-veiled ‘show up or don’t’ message on them, and I was pretty surprised when about half of them RSVP’d and ultimately showed up.” 

“_That’s_ why it’s so important, Jesse,” Gabe pressed. “You’ve seen your opportunity, you’re ready, and you’re doing what you’re supposed to do. That’s what coming out is: seeing the right time and place to show everyone who you are. There’s never been a better time for you, with how stable your life is, and with Hanzo in your life. _This _is the moment for you to come out. It’s not belated or delayed or any of that shit. It just wasn’t time, before. You knew it, that’s why you didn’t come with us in years past, and that’s fine.” 

“One-hundred percent,” Jack agreed, nodding. “We tried to get you to come because we care and wanted you to know you could _if you wanted to._ That’s _also_ why we stopped asking. It was clearly putting too much pressure on you.” 

“I-I thought you just gave up,” Jesse mumbled. 

“No!” Jack replied emphatically and strode over to give Jesse a hug of his own. “When have we _ever_ given up on you?” 

“Never,” Jesse sputtered. 

“And you never gave up on yourself, either.” 

“No,” Jesse agreed again, newly and more thoroughly overwhelmed as he jolted with a few repressed sobs. “Hanzo said that, too.” 

“And he’s _right._” 

“Yeah.” 

Gabe let out a loud, gravelly harrumph and grit his jaw against an obvious lump in his throat as he sat on the edge of tearing up himself. 

“Have we made enough of a scene for you?” he asked gruffly. 

Jack and Jesse parted; though Jesse was still openly crying, a sly smile brightened his face. 

“It’s worth it to see you all fuckered up,” he teased between sobs. He swept aside the worst of the tear tracks on his face with the soft cloth of his new wristband. “Thank you.” 

“Always, Jesse,” Gabe replied in a very rare show of earnestness. “We should let you be. But...I’m real glad you came. You belong here.” 

“Yes,” Hanzo agreed and kissed the corner of Jesse’s jaw. Jesse could only nod his understanding for the new crop of sniffling that bubbled up. 

“La Tumba’s closed tonight, but come by tomorrow. We haven’t seen Hanzo since his show. Too big for _us_ now,” Jack said, offering a cheeky wink. 

“Yes, I would love to catch up. We’ll be there.” 

Jack and Gabe took their leave with big smiles and waves, leaving Jesse and Hanzo to their relative peace. Hanzo came around to be face to face with Jesse and brought their foreheads together. 

“You heard what Gabe said.” 

“I b-belong here,” Jesse parroted past a sudden sob. 

“You do. Here, with me.”

Jesse tilted his head to capture Hanzo in a deep and desperate kiss. Even when they parted, Jesse didn’t stop and pressed more firm, grateful kisses into the side of Hanzo’s head. 

“I can do anything when I’m with you,” he whispered. 

Hanzo pet away the tear tracks on Jesse’s face wide, sappy smile. He had missed him desperately while away on tour. Phone calls couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. Now that the worst of the potential melodrama had passed, Hanzo was ready to give Jesse the fun and liberating day he deserved. 

“Does _anything_ include buying me churros?” 

Jesse giggled and entwined their fingers. 

“Hell _yes_ it does.”


End file.
